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by WhumpTown



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Hurt Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22625731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhumpTown/pseuds/WhumpTown
Summary: The idea comes from a tumblr post but now I can't find the post...Warnings for domestic abuse...
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel
Comments: 11
Kudos: 189





	Home

“What’s-”

He flinches. 

Dani pulls her hand away from him quickly. She draws her hand to her chest, looking between the angry inflamed skin peeking out from under his collar and panic-stricken face. She’s not stupid and he knows it. Still, she’ll dance around this encounter as they all have been. Ignoring the obvious signs right in front of all of them. It’s escalated, this is the first time there’s been physical proof. It’s nearly a perfect hand on the side of his throat, the thumb of which dances just above where the collar of his shirt ends. It’s fresh, agitated and his tie is loose around it. 

“S-Sorry,” he hasn’t managed to calm himself down. His left arm is cradled by the right, pinning it to his chest. He’s trembling, those exhausted blue eyes refusing to look at her face. Is he afraid she’ll hit him too? Has that what it’s come to? “I’m just being stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Never,” she whispers despite herself. It’s easy to talk to a woman she’s never met, to cradle the shoulders of a battered wife or girlfriend and tell her it isn’t her fault. She can understand that pain and rationalize it. As a woman, she is never a threat to them. They trust her and as she walks them to the ambulance they shoot side glances at JT and Gil. Waiting, suspecting, and afraid that they might hurt her too. Is that what Malcolm feels? Does he fear her touch as those women fear Gil and JT? 

She gets the briefest glance, hope glistening in his eyes as he forces himself to look back to the floor. As the soft kiss of a mother, the final push before a father lets go of the back of the bike… she’s given him something to go on. 

They don’t know her name. At least, they assume it’s a woman. JT made a suggestion that perhaps Malcolm is adventurous in his sexual life like he is in real life. Gil couldn’t say much on that just that he knew Malcolm did some experimenting in college. Dani refrained from adding that’s more than common but she knew her comment would bring neither solace nor an answer, so she kept it to herself.

What they do know is it’s killing Malcolm.

“Tea?” JT offers, glancing between Dani and Malcolm as he stands with his empty coffee mug. He raises it, questioning them with a raised eyebrow. Dani glances at Malcolm, at the mug she got him three months ago for Christmas. She nods her head and hands JT her own mug. JT stands for another moment. “Malcolm?”

Malcolm flinches, attention immediately pulled from the file he’s engrossed in. 

“Easy man,” JT knows better than to reach out and touch him. Normally, a comment like that would be followed with a shoulder pat but JT can’t bear to think of causing the poor kid more stress. “I just wanted to know if you wanted more tea.”

Malcolm looks at the mug and goes pale. “N-No. I’m sorry. I didn’t even drink the first one,” Malcolm looks down at the floor rather than at JT. “I’ll just drink this one. It’s no problem. I’m sorry.” 

JT picks the mug up anyways. He feels anguish. Even more so, he feels an intense need to gather their knuckle-head profiler in a hug. “It’s cold, old tea,” JT says softly knowing that he has to keep his tone low, unagitated. “I’ll make you another mug, no sweat.” He smiles as he leaves with the mug, hoping and praying he’s perfected that exchange. That he won’t leave Malcolm sitting in his thoughts thinking that JT hates him too. 

He hasn’t been eating or even drinking. None of them have seen Malcolm eat with their own eyes. Weight he can’t afford to lose melts off his bones.

They had won a battle with Malcolm so many months ago. They learned the foods he could not nor would not eat. They took it upon themselves to keep the few foods he did like around. Apple sauce, bananas, and eggs were the most popular. Tally hard boils a bunch of eggs at the beginning of the week and JT keeps them in his lunch box. He’ll place one on Malcolm’s desk near lunch, never ask Malcolm JT learned. They could see him eat and they knew he often struggled to eat just that one egg but he did it for them.

JT can’t remember the last time Malcolm ate the egg he placed on the edge of his desk. 

The herbal tea Malcolm likes grows cold and untouched. 

He grows thinner, tired. 

Overnight, something shifts in Malcolm. The bruises fade from around his wrist, they creep down his clothes. Their proof is swept away and they can’t be certain if he does the sweeping or not. A smile finds it’s way on his lips more often, even if the cool grin never meets his icy blue eyes. There’s nothing but those shaky hands and sad blue eyes.

“Malcolm,” she jogs up to the side of his desk. She’s heading out to pick up donuts and coffee before the corner shop closes for the night. “Walk me to the corner shop?” It’s gotten dark, 6:30 now the pitch black of what used to ten o’clock. It’s not that she’s afraid of the walk but making it with him is preferred to alone. 

He smiles at her, reaching out to grab his coat from the back of his chair before he verbally agrees. 

“Get some jellies!” JT shouts, not looking up from his paperwork. 

Dani rolls her eyes but she’ll get some jelly donuts. “So,” she shivers as Malcolm opens the door for her. “How are you?” She tries not to make it sound like, how’s your relationship with your abusive girlfriend but it’s hard to keep that level of frustration out of her voice. Especially when she knows he will cover for her. 

He thinks he deserves it. He’s difficult. His insomnia and night terrors make him impossible to sleep beside or even love and yet she has taken the time, the dedication to love him anyway. She’s only hit him a few times, only when he really deserves it. Like when he woke her up after she explicitly told him she had a rough day. Or when he dropped an entire prescription of pills on the floor. He deserved it. 

She loves him though. Sometimes when he’s sick she makes him his favorite tea. She dances in the living room with him and holds his hand. She’s gentle when he needs her to be. She’s more than he deserves.

Even if sometimes, she’s a little rough. 

“Cold,” he answers, his breath murky cloud around his head. It makes her laugh, seeing him shrink in on himself and gather his limbs tight to his chest. He bumps shoulders with her for the small chuckle and it warms him to see her so happy. So carefree. “How are you, Detective?”

He may not be the same. His laughter is harder for her to stir. He’s still there. In moments like these, she can see it best. “Worried,” she answers truthfully. She catches his eyes and leans into his side. He wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk like that, linked at the hip, to the shop.

“You worry too much,” he whispers just as they get to the door. He leans into her, so close for a moment her heart races. She waits for his lips to press to hers but they never do. A single tear falls from his right eye and he kisses her temple. “I’ll be okay.”

\----------------

“I-I’m leaving.” He can take a lot. The way she grows silent with anger as he rambles aimlessly. Talking about twisted disgusting shit, as she calls it. He can take her pushing him to the edge. The way she uses her body to manipulate him, knowing he'll hurt her. Never hit her. Even when she pushes him on the bed, ignoring his stuttering as he tells her he's not in the mood. He's a man. It's what is expected of him. 

But this time…

"You're leaving?" She huffs, in that way she does when she's aggravated with him. It makes his stomach hurt, his heart race. She puts her back to him. She doesn't care.

He trembles. His entire body on edge to block and move away from whatever she might throw. "Yes." He can take her abuse. The words she flings at him like knives. Her first punching his chest, fingers around his neck. He won't let her hurt them. His family. He deserves her moods, her fits of passion. They don't. Not ever. "R-Right now."

She hums.

He waits.

\----------------

"We've got a 273D on the East-"

Dani stands up, having only caught the code for Domestic Violence, but her mind is on one thing: Malcolm. "Where is that 273 dispatched to?" She waits impatiently for the officer to answer, going to the desk herself and looking over the offers shoulder. "No, no, no." She knows that address. 

"Gil! JT!" She runs to her desk, scooping up her coat. "It's Malcolm!" The room comes to life. Files hitting the floor with no care, jackets, and scarves being thrown around. 

Gil drives. She's never seen him like this. Stone cold, his mouth pinched into a tight frown. The lights from the car alert anyone to their existence, to their mission. Their five-minute drive feels eternal, dragged out impossibly long. Her mind comes to its own conclusions. She imagines the worst cases she's seen.

Men covered in blood, guns at the tips of their fingers. Not a drop of remorse in their eyes for their actions as their lifeless wives is taken away. 

She imagines Malcolm. A broken doll, his limbs bent slack and those blue eyes cast to look at nothing. Unseeing. Unliving. 

"Careful, " Gil warns, his voice cracking with emotion. They are unprepared. They are dangerously unprepared. "Please, " he breathes, " be careful."

She opens the door. Her hands tremble, she's afraid. She's terrified. "NYPD, " she's got his key in her pocket. The one he had given her while high, despite her telling him she didn't need it. Now, it burns a hole in her pocket. "Malcolm?"

He sits alone. His knees are pulled to his chest, his body turned away. Sitting on the floor, his body leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen. 

"Malcolm, " she steps forward, slow. She comes around the side, making sure she's visible to him. "Oh-" her breath catches in her throat. "Oh, Malcolm." She kneels down beside him, reaching out gently. She wipes a tear from his eye, cupping his cheek. 

"She-" the word catches in his chest. Tears streaming down his face. "She didn’t want me to leave.” 

Beaten, is not the right word. She’s seen enough broken noses to know Malcolm’s is shattered. His face is purple, his left eye already swollen shut. He’s broken. There was no fight here. This was violent and loveless. 

“Okay,” she reaches out, pulling him into her arms as his eyes cloud over. As he stares into nothing, removed. Broken. “Okay,” she rocks their bodies together, keeping him pulled close. His head lays limply on her shoulder, his body moving listlessly as she manipulates his limbs. He’s given up. “Malcolm?”

He closes his eyes. He can’t find comfort. Each breath hurts, a sharp sting in his side. She’s broken several limbs. She abused him. Emotionally, she began with his relationships. Belittling him just the right way to make his fragile self-image chatter under her heels. So that when she started hitting, he was compliant. He annoys everyone, so if she hits him, someone he believed to truly love him, then he deserves this. Then the sex… “How did I let it get this bad?”

“It’s not your fault,” she whispers, cupping the back of his head. She presses a kiss to his temple just as he did days before. He pulls away from her hug, looking at her. He looks like shit. “Malcolm,” she cups his cheek and he leans into the touch. “It’s not your fault.”

He nods, sniffling.

“Hey kid,” Gil stands behind Dani. He smiles down at the grown man before him but in his eyes, he’s still a little boy. That look in his eyes, sad but so intuitive. Too smart for his own good. His trouble maker. 

Malcolm visibly relaxes,” Gil.”

Gil crouches down, sighing as Malcolm leans into him. “You’re gonna be okay,” Gil promises, pressing his face into his messy hair. “I’ve got you, kiddo. I’ve got you.” Wrapped in Gil’s arms, Malcolm relaxes. JT stands by the door, no one will get in unless he gives them the okay. Dani sits at his side, her hand on his back. Solid, warm. His bruises will heal. His nose will throb. Today, it’s over. He’s saved. 

He’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> Totally send me fic ideas if you have any! I will write them, happily


End file.
